In the Wake of Destruction
by Shadowmere
Summary: The night of Halloween 1981 - A spy for the Order discovers Peter's betrayal and manages to get a message to the Potters in time - but she is captured. What will happen, and how will the events that followed change? How will they defeat Lord Voldemort? AU


This is a test to see if people like the idea of this story, so please review!

If I owned Harry Potter, it would be all about the Marauders... see Disclaimer below.

Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

regretfully inform you that

The Harry Potter Franchise

does not, and will never

belong to Miss Shadowmere

Messer Prongs offers his condolensces that you will never hear all about their adventures in school, although reading about his son is good too.

Messer Padfoot agrees with Messer Prongs, and adds that it is indeed a crime to deprive his fangirls of their idol.

Messer Wormtail – (here the ink writing changes into a doodled dog eating a rat)

Messer Moony wishes Miss Shadowmere would get on with it already, would like to apologise on her behalf, and reminds the readers that she can be sane _sometimes._

"When you were standing in the wake of devastation  
>when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown<br>with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now  
>you were there and possibly alone.<p>

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
>you build up hope, but failure's all you've known<br>remember all the sadness and frustration  
>and let it go, let it go.<p>

And in the burst of light that blinded every angel  
>as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars<br>you felt the gravity of temper grace falling into empty space  
>no one there to catch you in their arms<p>

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
>you build up hope, but failure's all you've known<br>remember all the sadness and frustration  
>and let it go, let it go.<p>

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
>you build up hope, but failure's all you've known<br>remember all the sadness and frustration  
>and let it go,<p>

let it go  
>let it go<br>let it go  
>let it go<p>

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
>you build up hope, but failure's all you've known<br>remember all the sadness and frustration  
>and let it go, let it go."<p>

Iridescent by Linkin Park

What I wouldn't give for this war to be over. I'd die a thousand times if it would make a difference, but my life isn't important. Our people are dropping like flies, and as much as that hurts, it hasn't _changed_ anything. They died for nothing; nothing but a madman's delusions. Some of my closest friends are in hiding, the others about to do the same, and yet here I am, perched silently on the wide black branch of an ancient yew, listening. A meeting of the most dangerous, most crazed and most bloodthirsty Death Eaters was taking place beneath me, and as a spy, I had to stick around – even when my instincts were screaming at me to get away from them _now. _It was both unnerving and calming to know that I'd done this a million times before, and had never been discovered; and that even if I was, I had an ace up my sleeve. My ears were filtering the information that drifted up to me in my hiding place, picking up things I like to call 'keywords'. Most of it was useless drivel about wiping out 'mudbloods' and muggles, the usual… but… A breath of wind swept into the clearing, and an icy tingle shot up my spine.

"M-my Lord." I almost fell out of the tree. _Voldemort? HERE? Oh crap crap crap… _And hey, that voice was familiar. Who-

"What is it, Wormtail?" No... Dear sweet Merlin, no… not _him_! An image of a pudgy boy with wispy brown hair and a dimpled grin flashed into my mind. That _traitor!_

"The P-potters, my Lord – they have m-made me their s-secret keeper!" Oh, Lily… James… And little Harry, too. I had to get out of there. My heart was pounding traitorously in my ears, but I wasn't paying attention. Anti-apparition wards had sprung up around the clearing, and I would have to move in order to get out of there… and if I moved… The snake down below hissed quietly, and Voldemort hissed back at it. The strangled noises did nothing to set me at ease.

"Indeed, Wormtail! This is good news… you have served Lord Voldemort well… Where are the Potters?"

The man below bore no resemblance to my childhood friend. Although still pudgy, his face had a grayish tinge and stress was evident around his eyes and in the set of his mouth.

"The Potters are h-hiding in the Ivy Cottage, Godric's Hollow, my Lord." There was a strange roaring in my ears. I was barely aware of standing up, my only instinct to get to Godric's Hollow straight away, to warn them – but under my hand, that had gripped a nearby branch to steady my numbing body, there was a loud snap. I froze. The Death Eaters froze. Wormtail froze. Lord Voldemort smiled.

"It seems we have found our spy. Bring it to me." My death sentence was said in a soft voice, that from anyone else would seem comforting – to my ears, I heard only mocking laughter in his words. I barely raised my wand, and shot off my final spell. I might not be able to get away from here, but I could at least try and save my friends.

"Expecto patronum lacuna." The silver hawk shot from the end of my wand, lighting the path before me – and advertising my exact location to my pursuers. I was running, dodging between trees and doing everything I could to reach the edge of the wards, hissing my message to the hawk that flew beside me.

"Finite. Go!" I screamed as I finished the message, feeling the edge of the wards coming closer. A little more! The light of the patronus vanished, and I was left in darkness. The spells that had been flying past my head and narrowly missing my fleeing figure cut off.

"Did we get it?" I heard a voice murmur.

"I don't know." Another replied. They were close, too close. I wouldn't be able to reach the wards… but I had to try. The patronus would reach it's two destinations regardless of whether I was conscious… but if I were dead, it would die with me, and then no one would know…

Four places it had to get to. Even now it would be reciting my findings… The Potters at Ivy Cottage.

Dumbledore at Hogwarts.

Padfoot and Moony, wherever they happened to be at the time.

One message that could change what was about to happen.

"We are betrayed. Wormtail – the secret keeper, Peter Pettigrew - told the secret. GET OUT OF THERE! Don't worry about me. I'll survive this. Whatever you do, don't reply! Don't tell me where you are. Swift flies again this night."

A flare of silver burst into being beside me, taking the shape of a hawk once more. It's cry echoed through my mind, reporting only one thing. Message sent.

My mission was complete.

I released the spell, and was left in darkness once more. The two voices were further away than before, and I realized the brilliant light a moment ago had been for my eyes only – to them, I had vanished. I breathed a sigh of relief – mentally, that is.

I moved forwards slightly, this time casting a wordless silencing charm on the area around me. Only a few more paces, then I was free… _Dumbledore's better give me some time off when this is all said and done. _I grumbled to myself. The faint pressure I could feel from the wards was lessening with every step. So close, so close…!

Not close enough.

A huge hand clamped down on the back of my neck with an iron grip. I would have whirled around and attacked, but my body was frozen – petrificus totalus. I cursed in my mind, but the fury I felt would weaken me. For occumency one must be calm and focused. Taking a mental deep breath for good measure, I began building up the walls of my mind, setting traps and false memories and secret rooms in the mental space. This was actually one of my favourite parts of the Art. You keep your real memories hidden behind a façade that you have to create – everyone's is different. Mine was like Hogwarts, like a castle. Strong fortifications on the outside, like the walls around the grounds of the school, but easy enough for a talented Legilimens to break through by stealth or force. Then, the grounds themselves; full of misleading obstacles and dangerous creatures and traps. At this point I often created a kind of artificial intelligence – the Marauder. It took different forms – most often a wolf, dog, or stag – and it's job was to fight off the invader by use of stealth and tricks. Having the Marauder meant I could concentrate on the next part – secondary false borders, the 'castle' itself. I'd have to put up a fight to defend it, and then once they were broken through, I'd push forward false memories for the invader to view and search through… so that I could keep the _important_ things hidden from sight in safe-rooms and secret tunnels. The Marauder only appeared in the 'castle' if the legilimens was strong enough to break through the walls.

Occlumency was a pain in the ass, but it was a good challenge.

While I was working on this, my body was being levitated and taken back, back under the pressure of the wards and back towards where Voldemort was waiting. I was kinda surprised he hadn't left yet, actually – did he think I couldn't get away? Or maybe he was going to make sure I hadn't sent a message, or if I had, who I had sent it to…

My mind was working furiously, the conscious part readying itself for a fight while the Marauder, part of my subconscious, was working on the occlumency shields and visualizing my defenses. The more I believed they were there, and that they were strong, the stronger and more real they would be to my attacker. This was a part of occlumency that a lot of it's students didn't understand – those defences _are real. _Just because it's happening in your head and not physically, doesn't mean that it isn't real and isn't going to protect you… but that was for another day. The moonlight was breaking through the trees – a perfect crescent moon casting pearly light down on the silent, unmoving figures. My body was dumped unceremoniously at Voldemort's feet, and my wand wrenched from my hand. The Dark Lord glared down at me like I was a piece of dirt on his shoe, and I felt the icy burning spear of his mind attacking my own.

The Marauder was already countering him, but he strode through the external defenses like they weren't even there. He got through the next blockade too, but I was pleased to note that several of my traps, diversions and obstacles delayed him. I was watching from the 'astronomy tower' part of my inner defense, a point where I could see him demolishing the doors to the castle… false memories, _go_. I fought with all of my energy, making sure he 'knew' I was throwing everything I had at him. _Come on, come on…_ eventually, he broke through that too. I struggled to hide the false memories, shoving other unrelated events in front of the evil bastard as a distraction – to no avail. It was the physical equivalent of me weakly _batting_ at him as he shoved me to the other side of the room with enough force to break a few bones. Voldemort grabbed at the false memory, watching it carefully. I struggled harder, trying to force him away from it.

_I was perched on the yew tree._

He pushed me away again.

_I overheard the conversation. Wormtail. _

I shoved an image of us, the Marauders, friends, into his mental face.

_I made the patronus – a distraction for the Death Eaters. _

He relaxed infinitesimally, hardly enough to call it relaxing, really. He had what he was looking for. I let the outer defenses fall, signaling my 'retreat'. He withdrew a little, still searching for any memories he could use. The Marauder appeared again, pushing forward another false memory with what equated to a _wink_ at me. It was in dog form – Padfoot.

I scanned it quickly, and had to reinforce the barrier blocking my emotions and immediate thoughts from my uninvited guest. Amusement would tip him off, I was fairly sure. I allowed it to drift towards him, and as predicted, the Dark Lord latched onto it with something akin to malicious glee. 'Blackmail' material. I held off a mental snigger. So _predictable. _

With that last memory still clutched in his grasp, the ice-cold fire removed itself from my mindscape. I lingered for a moment, breathing deeply and feeling the Marauder begin to repair the defenses. High above, a hawk screamed in triumph.

Comments? Questions? Anyone got any idea what kind of false memory the Padfoot-Marauder created?

Thanks for reading!

Shadowmere xxx 


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